Thrill Seeker
by YellowRosesAndHearts
Summary: Jane and Mashburne are kindred spirits, with the same taste in women. A post-ep of sorts for Thursdays episode. Some fun with Jane and Mashburne at the beginning, then lots of J/L.


_**First, I LOVED the last episode. I needed an episode that was going to make me want to write again, and that was totally it. I put some scenes with Jane and Mashburne in here (The rich guy), and then went off into Jane and Lisbon's escapade at the end of the episode. Reviews make me happy. **_

_**um. spoilers for this past Thursday's ep, obviously.**_

Mashburne is an adrenaline junkie, and Jane understands.

He remembers being young, a con-man drenched in his own power, a knowledge that the whole world was his, and the whole world was monotonous and predictable. And then he'd met his wife, who was the first woman to ever really tell him "no"—a bit half-heartedly, to be sure, but she'd made him chase her, and he found that he liked being winded. After a while, she had a degree of predictability about her, too, but he had loved her, loved everything about her, so he didn't mind.

Mashburne has never had that, he's never been tempered by love. All there has ever been is his own power, the torrents of people always telling him yes. And the endless array of private jets and fast cars and beautiful women have gotten old. There is nothing fresh anymore; nothing new. Jane understands that, too.

As they're walking on the beach, a little after Jane drives Mashburne's car, he turns to Jane and says, "You know, if you don't end up arresting me for murder, we should hang out some time."

Jane shrugs, looking disaffected. "We'd have to do something exciting."

"Oh, no doubt. Bungee Jumping?" His voice is sarcastic, and Jane knows he is being tested.

"Meh. Trite and predictable."

"I agree." They walk on another few steps. "Do you scuba dive?"

"I have. It's not as much fun in California."

"I usually go to the south of France. You?'

"Great Barrier Reef, when I was young. Ever been?" Jane is almost laughing at himself, at the two of them trying to one-up each other. In these moments Lisbon calls him a child, and he almost agrees.

"Can't say I have." Mashburne pauses. "We could fly around Napa, in my jet."

Jane grins wickedly. "Would you let me pilot?"

"Would you kill us both?"

Jane plucks a rock from the sand, and skips it across the water. "I've had some practice. Unless you're scared, or something," he baits him.

"Not scared. But you've already wrecked my car, and I need _some_ way to get around."

"It was an ugly car."

Mashburne rolls his eyes. "I would consider it. But there would be one condition."

"And that would be?"

"You'd have to invite Agent Lisbon along." Mashburne has a twinkle in his eye, and Jane laughs.

"She wouldn't come."

"Mmm. Is she seeing anyone?"

Jane shrugs his shoulders. "Would it really stop you if she was?"

"Probably not." He grins off into the distance, hands in his pockets. "She's something, isn't she?"

And it's something else the two of them have in common, a certain fascination with a beautiful, fiery woman who says, "no." Lisbon tells Jane no all the time, and it's oddly appealing. Jane is sure that Mashburne has been with more conventionally beautiful women than Lisbon, and he has, too. But Lisbon is tough-minded and intense, totally sure of herself, but still, vulnerable. And there is something beautiful in that.

Jane says, "Yes. Yes, she is."

***

Just after they close the case, Mashburne calls Jane on his cell phone.

"Mash! Please tell me you aren't calling about your car. I was bluffing when I said I had the money." Jane has taken to shortening Mashburne's name, mostly because being impertinent with someone who has everything is always entertaining.

He laughs. "I figured as much. I was just calling to see if he confessed."

"Oh," Jane says. He turns over on his couch. "You're still sad it's over, aren't you?"

"Not sad. Just slightly... deflated."

"Eh. Tomato, tomahto."

There is a slight pause, before Mash says, "You know I have more than one car, don't you?"

"I would have assumed so. I hope the other ones are in better colors. Not that driving the yellow one wasn't fun."

"So how about I lend you one for a night? As a token of appreciation for a satisfying interruption of...monotony."

Jane doesn't hesitate. "Where should I pick it up?"

***

"Promise not to go above the speed limit?"

"No."

Jane and Lisbon are driving to McCormicks, slicing through the air with the top down. Lisbon is trying to pretend that she dislikes the way he drives, but she's taken her jacket off, dark hair flying in the wind, and her eyes are unmistakably alight. She turns to him and grins hugely without meaning to.

"This is a great car," she says.

Jane keeps his eyes on the road, smiles. He's found in recent months that he dearly loves surprising her. The look she gets when he does something unexpected is much more endearing than he thinks she knows. Mashburne is a thrill seeker, and so is Jane. But Jane is drawn to this force that works to temper him, to hold him to earth. And he loves those moments when he get her to draw back, to let go, just a little.

"So why did you do this?"

"Don't you remember what I said? A little empty glamour will be good for you."

They pull up to the restaurant. Jane hops out of the car, and jogs around to open Lisbon's door, but she pointedly opens it for herself.

"Lisbon, you disappoint me. I would have thought you'd want to let a man be chivalrous."

"Chivalry is dead," she snaps.

"That's only because women killed it."

Jane requests the best table by the window, a booth that it supposed to be for six people, and gets it. Lisbon opens her menu, and gasps at the prices. She kicks him in the shin under the table, hard.

"Jane!" She hisses. "Jane, I can't afford this!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. You know I wouldn't make you pay, Lisbon, even if chivalry is dead."

She crosses her arms and puffs out her lips, looking mutinous. "I can't let you spend this kind of money on me."

"Empty glamour, Lisbon." He looks over the table at her, watching her scan the menu. "And stop looking for the cheapest thing you can find. Order what you want."

Lisbon widens her eyes, caught, and laughs to herself.

***

Forty-five minutes later, Lisbon is eating a well-done steak, and Jane is tucking into a rack of lamb. They are sitting up in their seats, knees almost touching under the table.

"Ok, those two," Lisbon says, pointing her fork at a couple to their right.

Jane looks over. "The wife is cheating on him, and he knows it. He's just in it for her money."

Lisbon looks around between chews. "That waitress."

Jane turns his head. "This is her second job. She's also a stripper."

Lisbon snorts with laughter, and then looks embarrassed. "Is she a good stripper?"

"Probably not. She's attractive enough that it doesn't matter."

Lisbon rolls her eyes, probably unintentionally.

"Oh, she has nothing on you, Lisbon." He tilts his head to look at her. "To quote an admirer of yours, you have a damaged intensity that is quite attractive. She doesn't compare."

Lisbon gives him a death glare. Jane ignores her, and raises his glass of Chianti in a toast. "To you. And your damaged intensity."

"Shut up."

***

He doesn't take her home right away.

The sun is setting, and he drives along as fast as he can, thinking that the open road is the only kind that does a car like this one justice. Lisbon has already adjusted to the oddness of the situation, of him driving a car that is worth more than her house, and taking her to a hideously expensive lounges in the passenger seat. She has grown used to Jane, and his unexpected bursts of strange generosity.

One of the reasons Jane is generous to her is because he has to be. He can never say to Lisbon, "thank you," and he can certainly never say, "I'm sorry." But he is given to almost ludicrous displays of affection, mostly because it is all he can do. He is horrible with the quiet moments, but he can buy her an emerald necklace, or sneak a pony into the CBI building to make her smile. The conventional doesn't work for him—the conventional is stale, and tiresome, and Jane hates being boring.

And anyway, he thinks she deserves this kind of ostentation, though he can't say that, either.

The sun grows lower in the sky, and Jane almost floors it. Lisbon, unguarded for once, puts both hands in the air to catch the wind as her shirt flaps around, and her long hair tumbles everywhere.

She hollers over the howling of the wind, of the engine, "So is this how your friend _Mash_ drives?" She's the only person he knows who could sound so snide and derisive even at the top of her voice.

"He's worse. He's an adrenaline junkie."

"And you?"

Jane shrugs, pushes the gas a little bit harder. "I'm growing."

"I'm not seeing it."

Jane looks over. Lisbon is laughing almost girlishly, one hand over her mouth to keep it in. She doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she enjoys his driving. She looks guileless, and sweet.

More than anything, this is the reason he does these things for her.

Just to see her face.


End file.
